Night Life
by OyNebach42
Summary: post paradise: He named himself Slade Dagger, after the alley where he was found, and the knife in his pocket. He does alright for himself, working as a bouncer, and renting a couch. But still doesn't feel satisfied. He wants to learn who he is and what.
1. Chapter 1

"If you want to view Paradise, simply look around and view it,

Anything you want to, do it,

Want to change the world? There's nothing to it."

-Willy Wonka

Night Life

Chapter 1

He walked around the city streets, staring at it all. The doctor told him that getting out might help him, but he wasn't sure.

"You were found in the dark alleys," the doctor told him, "at the very heart of the city, any life you had before must have been centered there."

But it didn't feel like his city. He didn't remember any of it. Not that he even remembered his own name; that too had eluded him. He looked down at the sketch in his hand, and then crossed the street. This was the industrial side of town. Tall grey blue factory buildings crouched behind chain link fences. Dark shadows clung to their sides. A breeze picked up scraps of paper as it whistled over the empty road.

The man zipped up his leather jacket, and turned down the alley next to Acne Co's compound. This little stretch of uneven tarmac was called Slade Avenue. The bottoms of his boots scrapped along its mutilated surface. It was empty, save for a box like garbage compactor and a few old crates. He pressed himself against the cold brick wall to see behind the compactor. Heavy shadow covered the small space, but he could just make out the dark stain on the wall. It was his blood.

This was where the man had been found by an Acne employee, half dead from lack of blood and exhaustion. From where he was, there in the slums, they thought he was a victim of gang violence. He couldn't remember, but after seeing the outfit he was found in, he had to admit it seemed likely. Black leather. Not many people with office jobs wore black leather, or had bodies covered in scars. From what he could tell, he must have been pretty proud of the one shaped like an X on his chest, the leather shirt left it exposed. And if he were wearing that outfit now, the new scar that stretched from his back to his side would also be in the open. But it was too chilly to wear clothes like that; besides, he couldn't understand why he'd worn them in the first place. The pants felt like they were falling down all the time, and the shirt was so tight it was hard for him to move his arms, which made him wonder if he really had been in the gangs. Surely wearing trash like that could get him killed, if it came to a fight and his arms were pinned by his own shirt, or he could barley get his legs apart, he'd be dead. No wonder he had gotten so banged up.

Been an idiot, most likely, and had almost gotten himself killed for it. Well, he wasn't being an idiot anymore. Now he wore a pair of Jeans that fit, and a T-shirt with a leather jacket big enough that he could throw a punch in it if he had to; clothes that put survival first, and looks second.

He also had a blade in his pocket. It was the one they'd found on him; a curved dagger, just big enough to fit in his hand comfortably. His attacker had stripped his pockets, probably taking everything with any identification on it; anything worth a cent, but why he would leave the knife was strange. Then again, maybe he didn't need it. The man in the alley pressed his arm to the bandages on his side. That man had his own blade.

Well, now they both did.

He knew he had to think of a name for himself, but it made him angry. He'd obviously had one before, and then that little son of a dog had stolen it from him. He would get it back, somehow. Since he'd been found here, he hoped this was his attacker's territory that was frequented often. He hoped he'd show up again tonight. Until then, until he pumped the weasel for his name, and who he was, he'd have to call himself something. But what?

He looked around himself for inspiration, but only the bleak dirty alley met his gaze. Not much to go on, trash, boxes, blood... Then his gaze fell to the paper still in his hand, 'Slade Avenue,' it read next to the squiggly map the doctor had drawn, 'an alley next to the Acne plant'. Slade; that had potential. Slade, Slade what? Slade Shadow? Slade Avenue? Slade Smith? Slade Acne? He shook his head, and stuck the map back into his pocket. Cold steel brushed against his hand. Slade Dagger? That didn't sound half bad, a little cocky, but hey, it fit. It would do, for now.

Another gale whipped past him and the chill seeped into his wound. Dang that hurt. It was still pretty raw. The doctor told him he'd been out a day or two, but man that cut ached. Slade leaned back against the dumpster, its overly sweet sickly smell wafted around him. The whole alley reeked. Night was coming on around him, shadows had darkened and in front of the factories themselves he could see streetlights turning on.

Slade sighed, and felt his side ache. He should have waited until he healed up more to go looking for his attacker. If he did end up fighting with the jerk now he'd be hampered by his wound. The doctor barely agreed to let him leave the hospital, he'd warned Slade that if he put too much of a strain on his side the stitches would come out. He wondered if taking care of his attacker would be a stain. Probably. That meant he'd be back in the hospital sooner or later, strapped down to the bed this time.

He wanted to take care of this tonight, though. After two days of sheer hell, finding out that his mind was a blank slab, that he didn't even recognize his reflection in the mirror, he was itching to get his hands on the son of a mother who'd done this to him. But his side ached from the night chill, and his back burned.

Angrily, he pushed himself up. "Stupid back," he muttered. He walked up and down to alleyway a few times, arms gripping his side, waiting, listening, but the night was still.

Slade counted to thirty slowly, and then admitted defeat. Even though pain seared through his body at every step, he forced himself to stand straight and look forward when he walked out of the alley. If you looked like easy bait for a mugger, that's what you'd become.

There was no one anywhere that he could see. Rats squeaked and scurried out of his way as Slide walked back up the main road. Metal gates and fences were pulled down over the store fronts. 'Closed' signs hung on the diner doors. But when the innocent days stores locked their doors, the shadier establishments were just opening.

Neon lights cast florescent pink and green puddles onto the street in front of the night club Slade passed. A long line was already stretched out in front of the door. Two huge mountains of muscle stood before the entrance, pulling some people aside, and letting others pass.

Slade walked close to the crowd, making sure his face was in the light. He listened and watched those he passed, but none of them acted like they'd ever seen him before.

Three black clad youths stood beneath a street light across from the club. Gang members. They were dressed like idiots, all chains and black sunglasses. Slade rolled his eyes; those would sure come in handy on the street at night. Along with their too big clothes that sagging and bagging from their lean bodies, they looked more like circus clowns than threats.

"Hey, buddy, what are you staring at?" One of them demanded.

Slade shrugged, "Nothing."

"Then move on before we get pissed," another ordered, "I don't like sons of mothers eye ballin' me."

Slade stuck his hands deep into his pockets, his right hand gripping the dagger. "Sure thing," He turned cautiously, waiting for the gang to try and pounce on his back.

They didn't.

Odd.

He walked a few more yards and then dunked into an alleyway. He flattened is back against the wall and stole a glance back at the street lamp.

The gang was still under it, but now they were all looking at the night club line. Slade watched with them. A couple of girls were standing in the back talking and laughing with one another. One of them wore a newsboy hat over long black curls, while her companion was taller and blonde.

"Yo, Ruby," One of the gang shouted.

The girl in the hat looked over her shoulder, and then turned quickly back to face the line. She and the blonde girl began whispered.

"Yo Ruby", the street clown called again, "Ruby!"

Most of the line was turning towards the shouts, staring. The girl turned as well, her chest heaving in a great sigh.

"What do you want, Curtis?" She asked in a sort of tropical accent, while folding her arms.

The gang member who'd called her took a step forward. "Don't you start like that with me, girl." He pointed at her angrily, "You owe our boss, and it's collection night."

Ruby sifted her feet, "Listen, Curtis it was a slow week for me-"

"I don't give a what kind of week you've been havin', Boss wants the money tonight, and if you ain't got it... We ain't goin' back empty handed." The other members walked to Cutis' side, smiling.

At the same time, the line of party goers shrank away from the girl, leaving her alone. Even the blonde girl deserted her. She crouched down, her legs tensed, muscles coiled.

Curtis laughed and spit onto the road. "You can try runnin' gal, if you wan'u."

Steal baseball bats appeared from the folds of the gangs clothes. They looked like more threatening clowns now.

The girl backed up a pace, and then ran up the road, towards the alleyway.

The gang took after her, at a surprising speed for their too large clothes. Even though one of them had to hold his pants up as he ran, they were gaining on the girl.

Ruby raced to the alley and dunked inside. "Oh no," she panted looking at the wall of boxes and garbage, "dead end."

"You bet it is, for you anyway."

She turned about to see Curtis and the other two walking up. They were all grinning, and swinging their bats up and down.

"Well, well, well," Curtis gloated, "look who we caught without much fuss."

Ruby scanned the ground hurriedly, and picked up a metal pipe, hoisting it to her shoulder like a batter.

The gang members laughed. "Oh, look it boys, the little girly's got a stick," Curtis wailed mockingly, "oh, I'm so scared. She's just gonna kill us all with that."

"Yep," Ruby snarled, "I am."

"You gonna wish you was dead girl, when we get done with you. We ain't gonna kill ya, there ain't no fun in that. No, we'll beat the tar out of ya' and then dump you somewhere and let you bleed to death." Curtis spat on his hands, and twirled the bat. "Come on boys, let's get to it."

Slade stepped out from behind the dumpster then, hands deep inside his pockets.

The gang stared at him for a moment before Curtis cursed, "Man, I thought I told you get lost, looser."

"I did," he said, "it's just you found me again."

"You're stickin' your nose where it don't belong, string bean."

"I might be," Slade allowed, "but it is my nose to stick where I see fit."

Curtis grinned, "fine, you wanna die the hero, I ain't gonna deny you that." With a yell he flung himself at Slade.

Slade side stepped, and his dagger moved in a blur.

"Ow, hell," the group's leader retreated, sucking his hand, "You got a blade. But still," he hefted his bat, "that ain't no match for three of us."

The gang made a semicircle at the alley's mouth. One still wearing his sunglasses was the first to swing; it was aimed at Slade's head. He dunked and then squirmed out of the way of the rebound.

"Slippery little cuss ain't ya?" Curtis snarled. He lunged again, this time with the others.

Bats rained down on Slade from every side. He weaved and dodged through them, seeking an opening for his knife. One of the bats caught him in the shoulder, another slammed into his leg. He drew back, hands raised, knife ready.

With a shout, the one with the sunglasses pushed himself forward. His blows were hard and fast, pelting the arms Slade drew up to protect his face. Sunglasses snarled, and swung for the head. Slade dunked and popped back up, knife a blur again. A trail of blood leaked from the gang member's arm, he shrieked. Slade kneed Sunglasses in the groin as the gang member drew back, and when he doubled over, brought his clenched hands down hard on the back of his head. Sunglasses fell to the ground.

The other gang member stepped over his friend's body. "Oh man, you gonna pay for that." The bat came down on Slade's arm, who repulsed it away. Then brought his knife up. A long gash streaked across the other's shoulder. He hefted the bat again, but Slade pushed himself at the gang member. Before he could swing, Slade was across the bat. He wretched the steel bat from the man, and swung it one handed. It connected to the gang member's skull with a loud clang, and he toppled.

During the fight, Slade had lost track of Curtis. The big youth appeared at his side suddenly; with a blow that hit right on Slade's wounded back.

Slade was thrown forward, and landed heavily on his side. Curtis was upon him instantly, striking his head and back. Pain sliced through Slade, forcing him to curl in on himself and clouding his vision.

"Leave him alone, Curtis!" Ruby's shout was accompanied by a blow from the metal pipe that sent the gang member to the ground. Ruby leaped upon him then, the pipe slammed into his face again and again.

Curtis kicked her off her feet, "You're dead, girl!" He roared raising his bat.

Gritting his teeth, Slade pushed himself upright. The wound had opened on his back, and he felt blood seeping down from it. Pain seared through every limb, and his vision was obscured by white flashes, but he could make out Curtis standing over the girl, bat at the ready. With a snarl, he threw himself at the gang member, pushing him sideways into the asphalt.

Curtis' bat clanked to the floor and rolled a little ways from his motionless body. Blood seeped from the back of his head. Slade lay across him, equally still.

Sirens whined from the main road.

Ruby leaped to her feet. Cops, just great. She ran to the mouth of the alley and peered out. Two Squad cars were parallel parked across the street. Policemen were starting to climb out of them. Ruby turned away and ran to the barricade of trash at the alley's other end. Wooden crates were staked tightly ten feet high. Ruby found one a row up that was half pushed out. Grunting, she managed to shove it the rest of the way. It fell back with a thud, leaving a space large enough to crawl through.

She grinned, and began snaking trough the gap. A deep groan from behind stopped her. Curtis? She looked over her shoulder. No, it was that other guy, the one with the knife, he was still alive.

He was trying to lift himself up, but he was so beat up he kept falling down. He managed to raise his head, and his eyes met hers. "Help," he whispered and passed out.

Typical, Ruby could see flashlight beams skimming across the alley walls, the cops were almost there. She looked at man with the dagger. He'd probably die anyway, she reasoned, and she hadn't asked him to help her. It was like a jungle on the streets, every man for himself. Ruby knew she could slip away from the cops alone, but trailing this loser, who couldn't even stand, she'd for sure get caught. There wasn't any time for her to debate, the cops were almost there. She started through the gap again, then sighed and wiggled back out. She crawled over to the man and slapped him, hard.

His eyes opened, and swam about before finding her face. "Listen Jack," She whispered covering his mouth when he tried to talk, "if you want my help you gotta keep up, kay? If you can't, you're on your own."

He nodded once. Ruby hauled him up to his knees. His limbs gave out under him, but he caught himself.

Ruby rolled her eyes and crawled to the hole in the crates. She didn't look back to see the man, either he was with her or he wasn't. She shifted her way through the hole and stood up. The man slid through after her, his teeth clenched. He held onto the wall and pressed himself up to his feet.

Ruby took off then through the alleys. Skirting the pools of light from the odd window, she turned and twisted through the maze of back roads. She could hear the man behind her, breathing heavily and dragging his leg.

"Hey, who's there? Halt!" The sudden appearance of a police officer drove Ruby to a run. The man staggered along in her wake. Behind them cops shouted.

Shoot, Ruby thought as she tore through the streets, how come I never get a clean get away? She turned a sharp corner on to a block of apartment buildings. Almost there. She leaped up and grabbed the bottom of a fire escape ladder, climbing up it as it unfolded.

The man clutched the last rung and tried to hoist himself up. With a cry of pain, he managed to swing a leg up and started to climb.

Ruby was already by the third story. She pushed up one of the windows and slipped inside. She sank to the floor and lay there panting. Outside, she heard the cops running down the street, then the wail of the siren, then nothing.

Had he made it? She pushed herself up and peered out the window. The man lay passed out just below it. With a sigh, she opened the window the rest of the way, stuck her arms out, and grabbed two handfuls of his shirt. Grunting, she hoisted him into the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ruby staggered under than man's weight. He hadn't looked like he'd weigh that much. She managed to clear the window ledge, but let him slump to the ground just inside, where he began bleeding all over the tile floor. Great.

She straightened and flicked on the light. The room looked better in the dark. In the dark, you didn't know that the green walls were peeling like an onion, or that the room itself was empty save for a huge leather sofa and brown armchair in the corner.

In the light, Ruby could see just how bad the man was hurt. He needed treatment and soon. Hurriedly, she jogged down a narrow hallway half clogged with moving boxes. There was no light here, save for a faint glow coming for under the bottom of a door. Ruby stopped, and pounded on the door angrily.

"Max, you'd better not have your headphones on!"

There was a grunt from inside and feet stamped to the door before it was unlocked and opened. The only term to describe the boy who stood in the doorway was already written on his shirt in capital letters; "NERD".

"What- uh, snor-kel…" he sounded drugged. "What dimension is this?"

Ruby slapped his face. "Hello, Max! Wake up! Welcome to the real world! This is your sister, Ruby Rodriguez!"

The nerd blinked, "Ruby? Earth, 2009. 'What' was the correct response."

"Come on, Max, I need your help!" Ruby insisted, "There's a guy practically bleeding to death in the living room!"

"What, Now? I'm about to lead the fellowship into the Caves of Destiny. We've been planning this for months. "

Ruby groaned so loud it was almost a roar, "Come on!" She grabbed her brother's thin arm, and dragged him out of his room. He left a trail of 'ow's all the way to the window.

"Ow," he breathed, this time in sympathy, looking down at he man's battered body. "What happened to him?"

"Curtis in his cronies. Now, help me get him onto the couch."

The nerd stood for a moment opening and closing is hands experimentally. Then he bent down and picked up the man's feet while Ruby took the top half. Shuffling awkwardly, he crossed to the couch, where he let go.

"Help me turn him over; his back is what's bleeding so bad."

Once they had him flipped over, Ruby pulled the man's jacket off. She grabbed the shirt beneath and ripped, opening it to the wound.

Max whistled, "Look's bad."

"I'm going to get something to stop the bleeding," Ruby muttered. "Stay," she added as an afterthought.

Max looked around the room. He hadn't remembered the walls being exactly that shade of green, or having a couch for that matter. He looked down at the man, and something clicked in his mind.

"Level twenty-nine," he announced, "Replace stitches in patient." His eyes clouded over for a moment. "Sponge, water, scissors, needle- long and bent, surgical string, gauze,"

"What?" Ruby called from the other room.

Max resurfaced, "We need to replace his stitches."

"How do you know this-?"

"Surgeon's Assistant, Level twenty-nine."

This was the only time having a brother like Max actually came in handy. "Go gather what you need," Ruby ordered him, while pressing a rag against the man's wound.

"Needle- curved, long.." Max chanted as he moved about the apartment.

Ruby looked up, "check Grandma's old sewing basket." Beneath her hands, the man moaned. "Hey, you," Ruby said, "take it easy." "Max!" She shouted, "See what kind of pain killer you can dig up."

Her brother shuffled back into the room a moment later, his arms loaded down with supplies. He handed Ruby a proscription pill bottle, Grandma's meds from after she broke her hip. Well, it would have to do.

Ruby popped one of the pills into the man's mouth, and then rubbed his throat until he swallowed. "That should take a few minutes to take effect."

Nodding, Max set the other things on the floor beside the couch. There wasn't much, a first aid box, a roll of gauze, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, a roll of string, and a long curved needle.

"Did you get the bleeding to stop?"

Ruby nodded.

"Good," Max snapped on a pair of plastic gloves. "Clean the wound and we'll start."

After the wound was cleaned, Max threaded the evil looking needle. "O.K.," he said, "I've only done this on virtual patients who were under heavy sedation. All we gave him was some Tylenol with codeine. You might want to hold him down."

"If he's stayed out for all this-"

"I've never been sewn up myself," Max cut in, "but I bet you anything it hurts like hell." He waited until Ruby had a hand on either of the man's shoulders. He looked at her and she nodded. Max began sewing.

Ruby watched the first two stitches before her stomach started rolling, and she had to look away. Luckily for her the man only moaned a little, and was mostly out for the whole procedure.

Finally, after what seemed to Ruby as forever, she heard Max ripping off his gloves. "Well, that's the best I can do, you may have been better off calling an ambulance."

Ruby risked a look at the wound. Black lines crisscrossed over red inflamed skin. "Ugh," she exclaimed, "it looks like Frankenstein."

"Yeah," Max shrugged, "I just hope we stylized the wound well enough. Otherwise, it could get infected." He began rolling the soiled cotton balls and gauze into a ball.

"Thanks, Max," Ruby gave a small grin. She leaned against the wall and sighed. Now that all that was taken care of, her body was going out of survival mode, exhaustion ran in to take its place.

Max on the other hand was just getting energized. He hadn't had this much excitement outside of his computer since he discovered War Craft. "Who is he?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea." Ruby sighed.

There was a rustle as Max shoved the dirty ball of gauze into a plastic bag. "Why'd you bring this guy here if you don't know who he is?"

Weakly, Ruby crossed over to the old brown armchair. She sank into it before replying. "He was hurt. If I'd left him on the street he'd be dead."

"Ah," Max nodded, "he's not one of your ex-boy friends, is he?"

The kick he received was lighter than her usual. It clearly said, "Shut up, or I'll REALY cream you later."

Could be an ex then.

Max tied the bag in a knot, and looked back at the guy passed out on the couch. He had all the qualifications of Ruby's boyfriends; scars, abnormal colored hair, and of course…

"Nice tattoo action." Max observed, prodding the design on the man's neck. "What's it supposed to be, a wolf?"

Despite her exhaustion, Ruby raised up to see. "It does look like a wolf, I didn't notice it before."

Max grinned, "Too busy looking into his eyes, hu?"

This time her boot hit home. "Shut up, Max."

Her bother drew back, laughing. "Well, I'm going back to my game now. I told Rolling Thunder that I'd just be a second." When he was safely out of shoe range, he added. "And don't worry, if I hear anything like kissing, or creaking mattresses, I'll just blame it on the neighbors."

Ruby started to get up, but her brother was already in his room. The door snapped shut like a clam shell. When would he ever grow up? It was like he'd gone to never land or something. Even though he was technically one year older than Ruby, she couldn't help but think of Max as a younger brother.

She was always the one who ended up taking care of him anyway. She was the one who'd gotten the job after Dad died. She was the one who heated up the TV dinners every night, and did the laundry. She was the adult.

And now with all the business with Curtis, her life had gotten that much complicated.

She watched the man sleep for a while. Max had been right, that was some tattoo. A grey wolf running, was that some sort of gang sign? She'd never heard of a 'wolf gang' anywhere in the city. Probably the guy just got a tattoo. Ruby wondered what kind of man he was. Well, he hung around alleys, and carried a knife, and hell, could he fight; a mercenary then or maybe a bodyguard. Or maybe he was just trying to survive on the streets like everyone else. He seemed to be succeeding anyway, until she'd showed up.

Ruby flicked off her boots, and curled up in the chair. She laid her head on the arm, and could just see the quarter moon outside. So much for her plans that night. Curtis had officially ruined her club night. Plus now, if he lived he'd come back after her, and he'd be angry.

Yawning, Ruby closed her eyes. At least she was alive and free, for the time being.

/

Slade woke himself up shivering. Cold air was blowing across his back and seemed to be collecting right over his wound. He was lying on top of something cold and smooth, it felt like his jacket. Slade clawed at it, trying to find an edge so he could pull it up over himself. His fingers followed the leather down to hard metal legs. Not his jacket then.

He opened his eyes to see a lumpy sofa back stretching above him. Over it, he could see an avocado green wall, so neglected that the paint was flaking off like dead skin. His jacket was one the couch back. With a satisfied grin, he pulled it down and spread it over his back. It was colder than the wind had been, but would warm up soon.

Where was he? Slade turned his head away from the couch back, so that he could see into the room. He could just see a window from the corner of his vision. It was morning now. The sky was blue outside, but the sun's rays seemed to miss the apartment completely. A naked light bulb that hung from the ceiling was on, and its gleam hurt his eyes.

The room was painfully bare. It contained only the sofa and a scratchy looking brown chair that had someone sleeping in it.

It was the girl from the alley. She was sprawled out, one arm up the chair's back the other hanging free, her head was on one of the arms, and her legs hung over the other. The newsboy hat was pressed down over her eyes. Slade smiled.

He tried to sit up and did. Strange. He tested moving his arms. They hurt, but no where near as much as they had the night before. Cautiously, he pressed a hand to his back. Pain rushed up so quickly it made him hiss. That was more like it. He inhaled and stood up, this thigh throbbed, but it was livable.

The girl stirred, her arms stretched out above her head, and she groaned. Then she flipped her legs to the front of the chair and sat up, rubbing her face. A huge yawn escaped her as she pressed the hat back away from her eyes. She saw Slade.

"What the hell are you doing?" She accused.

Slade stared at her, "Standing,"

The girl didn't seem to approve. "You pulled half the stitches out of you back last night, you know, and then my brother sewed you back up."

"Thanks for that." He bent over and picked up his jacket off the couch, wincing.

"Don't you think you're kind of rushing your recovery?" She asked as she stood up.

Slade shrugged, "I can walk." He looked down at himself, "by the way, what happened to my shirt?"

She pointed to the two shreds of bloody rag hanging over the couch arm.

Slade sighed, "Figures," He slipped on the jacket and as soon as he had it zipped up, he put his hand into his pocket, his fingers curled around the dagger's handle in relief. He started towards the door, the girl dodged in front of him.

"Do you really think you can make it out there? You were half dead last night."

"I'm a fast healer." He brushed past the girl and crossed to the door before she could block him again. The dead bolt jammed when he pressed it, it took a couple of blows to knock it out. The doorknob jerked and caught instead of turning. Slade pressed up against the door as he turned the knob, it stood firm. He tried again, and then turned to the girl.

"Are you holding me hostage, or something?"

She shook her head quickly, and he could see the red imprint of the chair fabric on her cheek. "No, it's been stuck for about a year now," she told him sheepishly, "we just use the fire escape." He started towards it, and she trailed after him. "If you'll just stop and listen for a second, I wanted to tell you that I'll be leaving for work in a little bit and I could give you a ride."

Glancing over his shoulder, he asked. "You have a car?"

"A motorcycle, but it's better than walking."

She had a point, he had to admit, and already he could feel the pain in his back. "Alright, fine,"

The girl relaxed then. "I'll go get ready, it should only take a second, and then I can give you a lift as far as the bike shop."

He nodded, "thank you."

Relieved, she nodded as well, "I'll only be a minute," she jogged down the hallway, throwing glances over her shoulder every few steps to make sure he hadn't left until she disappeared into one of the doors.

Slade sighed, and slid down into the brown chair. Well, things didn't seem to be turning out the way he'd planned. Last night he'd had a short priority list: find his attacker, and then when that hadn't worked, go find somewhere to sleep and then hunt up his attacker the next day. Then that girl had been chased by those goons, and of course he'd had to save her. It may have helped her out, but he hadn't benefited any. It had just sat him back a few days on the healing up thing. He shook his head; this wasn't working out at all.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he looked up to see the girl wrapped in a towel, slipping into another room. "Just a second, I promise." She told him. The door shut, and then the apartment filled with the sound of a rain storm.

Slade pushed himself up, and began to wander around the apartment. It was very small, and very empty. He found a miniscule kitchen that was more like a broom closet with a refrigerator. Inside the fridge itself, there was nothing by a carton of milk and some old lettuce, but the freezer was stocked full of TV dinners. A small microwave that looked like it has survived quite a few fires sat on top.

There was a picture on the fridge door underneath a magnet shaped like a beer bottle. Slade picked it off and studied it. The girl and a tall thin boy wearing huge glasses were sitting on the floor in front of the armchair, an elderly woman sat in the chair, face lost in all her wrinkles. Behind the chair stood a balding man with a gut, he had the biggest smile of all those present, even though most of it was covered by his mustache. Slade flipped the picture over. "Me, Max, Grandma, and Dad", it read. Slade stuck it back beneath the magnet and turned back into the living room.

There wasn't much there that he hadn't already seen, so he crossed over to the window and looked out. Apartment houses, much like the one he was in, cut off his view of most else. The road below was mostly empty. A few cars were parked along the sidewalk, and most of them were burned out shells. There were no people.

Click! Thud! He turned to see the bathroom door fly open. Steam billowed out in a thick cloud, the girl stepped out after it, towel still clutched around her. She met his gaze with an apologetic smile, and darted into the other room again, leaving wet footprints on the floor.

Slade sighed and drummed his fingers on the windowpane. It was steamed up from the shower, and his fingers left clear circles.

"O.K, we can go now!" The girl exclaimed rushing into the room. Her hair was still wet, and dripped down the front of her blazer. Beneath it she wore a pair of old overalls, and a tank top. Hurriedly she stuffed her hat into a backpack, which she slung onto her shoulder. She zipped up her dark blue windbreaker. "Come on!" The window groaned and moaned, but yielded to her shoves. Quickly, she slipped out, and started down the metal stairs.

Slade looked after her for a moment, and then climbed out the window. Bending over hurt his back, but once he stood back up again, he was fine. The fire escape shuddered with the girl's footfalls and the medal rang. Slade loped down behind her.

Once Slade made it to the ground the girl was already unchaining her motorcycle. It was of the large bulky variety, and solid black. 

"Nice ride."

The girl looked up and grinned, "Thanks, it's sort of a company car." She stood and tossed him a helmet. "I'm headed for the bike shop up on Lincoln, but first I thought I'd get a donut."

"Fine,"

She lifted her helmet to her face and then stopped, "You know, I never introduced myself, I'm Ruby." Her hand shot out.

He shook it, "Slade."

Ruby slipped her helmet on the rest of the way. "Right, well, let's get going." She climbed on to the bike, and kicked out the brake. A shiver ran up her spine when Slade joined her. There was something about him, she thought as she turned the bike onto the road, something strange and dangerous. She liked it.

"


	3. Chapter 3

I would like to thank my reviewers before starting this chapter. When I first began writing this story, I thought I'd really made a mistake. Wolf's Rain wasn't my territory, and the story seemed to be coming out all weird. It was definitely not my usual style at all, and even now I'm trying to fix that. I think it's because I haven't written in a while. I have to go after each word with a stick since they refuse to flow normally. Anyway, I'll try to get the flow better in this chapter, and I promise to work on typos since I've noticed some in the other chapters after I put them up.

Chapter 3

Joey's Donut shop was never really a busy place, it got the most visitors around breakfast time, and then they thinned out. Now, with the sun at high noon, the place was practically empty except for Slade and Ruby.

The clerk on duty yawned as he passed them a menu across the counter. "Welcome to Joey's Donut shop," he droned, "might I interest you in the dish of the day?" There was a weak hand flick in the direction of a display case.

Slade looked at the confection on display. "What is it?"

Another yawn, "a donut,"

Slade drew a breath through his teeth, "I meant what type is it?"

"Oh," The boy gave him a sleepy-eyed stare, "today's dish of the day is our new whole-wheat donut, filled with a non dairy cream. It's supposed to be healthier for you, or something." Gradually, the clerk's head began slipping towards the countertop.

Ruby lowered the menu, "I'll have a Chocolate special."

The boy at the counter shuddered, "glad I don't have to pay your dentist bill. And you?"

After letting his eyes scan the display window and menu, Slade said, "You can get me a plain."

Something between a choke and a cough issued from the clerk. "A plain? Dude, you have got to be kidding! You came to Joey's to order a plain donut? Blasphemy!"

A frown pressed down Slade's mouth. "Do you have plain donuts?"

There was a pause. "Well, yeah."

"And will you make money by selling one to me?"

The kid shrugged, "not really, I get paid by the hour, if you tip-"

"Get me a plain donut." He repeated.

Rolling his eyes, the clerk shuffled over to the cash register, and began punching in the prices number by number.

"Wait," Ruby stopped him, "we'd like drinks too."

"What 'il it be?" The corners of the clerk's mouth twitched slightly, in an annoying arrogant way.

"One coffee," Ruby looked over at Slade, who shrugged. "Two coffees," she corrected.

The boy resumed punching in the prices. "How do you want 'um?"

"One cinnamon with cream and sugar and one-"

The clerk's shoulder's jerked, and his eye twitched, "He, he, let me guess, one plain?"

"Actually, I'll take the same."

Once the boy had slithered off into the kitchen, Slade and Ruby found a booth by the window and sat down.

"I can see why you come here," Slade muttered, "the service is outstanding."

Ruby smiled, "just wait until you taste that coffee, O.K? What was up with the plain donut, anyway? I'm paying, and you don't have to skimp."

He shrugged, "I wasn't skimping. I just wanted to get something I knew I'd like."

"You don't eat very many donuts, do you?"

"Not that I can remember."

There was silence for a moment, Ruby broke it. "Well, I wanted to thank you for your help last night, even though I probably could have gotten out of it on my own."

Slade grunted as he smirked, "sure you could have."

"Yes, I could! I can outrun those jerks easy, if it weren't for that alley being backed up… I know the city, O.K? Curtis and his boys, they only know their own 'territory'. That's what happens when you belong to a gang. I'm on my own, so I know every alleyway there is."

Slade shook his head, but let it slide. "Why were they chasing you anyway?"

Ruby shrugged and looked out the window, "I owe their boss some money. It's nothing big."

He tried leaning back, and remembering his wound, settled on propping his arm against the tabletop. "Big enough for them to want to kill you over it,"

"Yeah, well," She kept her gaze outside, "I can handle it."

"Yo, gray haired dude, your order's up!" The clerk called, pushing a tray to the edge of the counter.

Sighing, Slade rose and retrieved the food. When he came back, Ruby was all smiles again. "I'm starving! Let me at that donut!"

He sat back down and watched her gaze joyfully down at her order. "Would you look at that," she exclaimed, "it's perfect."

Slade looked. "That sure is a lot of chocolate."

"Yeah, chocolate donut, filled with chocolate cream, topped with chocolate glaze and sprinkles." She let out a sigh of pleasure, "My Dad used to call these cavity factories."

"I can see why."

Ruby took a bite, "Don't think I go around eating junk like this all the time, 'cause I don't. But boy, do I deserve this one!" Various expressions of joy and fulfillment flashed across her face, as she savored that one mouthful. She took another bite, and noticed Slade's stare.

"Aren't you going to eat yours?"

He lowered his gaze to the donut, "yeah," With a sigh and a prayer he raised it to his mouth and took a bite. "It's good," he allowed, chewing, "a little sticky, but it's good." It was good, and he suddenly remembered that he hadn't eaten since he came to at the hospital.

Ruby laughed, "I can't believe you've never had a donut before! How long have you been in the city?"

"I'm not exactly sure." His response was quiet, and Ruby could hear the annoyance in his voice.

Her smile faded, "What do you mean?"

Slade paused. He hadn't really been planning on having this conversation. It wasn't that he was avoiding the topic really, it was just that, well, would take a lot of explaining. "It's a long story." He told her simply, "and I don't like to tell 'um."

"Could you summarize maybe?"

He shoved the rest of the donut into his mouth. "No."

"O.K," she seemed a bit wounded that he wouldn't tell her, but recovered quickly. "We should drink the coffee before it gets cold." She picked up one of the mugs, blew on it and took a sip.

Slade looked down into the steaming brown liquid. It smelt well enough, he had to give it that. Hoping it turned out as good as the donut had, he drank some. "Not bad," he mused as he sat down the empty cup.

He turned to look out the window. The donut shop was almost across town from his alley, and the difference was astonishing. Here people at least made an effort to keep the place in some kind of order. There were waste baskets on the sidewalks that actually seemed to be used. The cars that passed the shop were whole, and their drivers seemed to obey traffic laws. Slade actually saw a few people milling about further down the road, by where Ruby had parked her motorcycle.

Idly, he let his fingers drum the tabletop.

A long sigh made Slade turn his attention from the view. "Do you still want that ride to the bike shop?" Ruby asked as she shifted the nearly full mug in her hands.

He nodded.

"Well, you're going to have to wait till I'm finished, O.K?" Her voice was low and annoyed.

"Sure,"

"Why are you in such a rush anyway?" She asked, "Or is that part of your long story too?"

"I'm looking for someone." He admitted.

Ruby took another sip of coffee. "Oh,"

"Yeah," Slade leaned his face into his palm, and chased donut crumbs around the plate with his other hand.

He heard Ruby take another sip, "a friend?"

A wicked smile pulled at the skin trapped under his hand. "Naw, this one's an enemy." A piece of glaze stuck to his finger. He licked it off.

"An ex?" He barely caught her voice.

"What?" Slade looked up. Ruby seemed fascinated by whatever was left in her cup.

"You know," she continued a bit louder, "an ex; an old girlfriend."

Smiling, he shook his head. "I hope not."

Ruby raised her puzzled gaze. Slade sighed. "I'm looking for whoever stabbed me."

"Oh," She gazed at him for a moment and then gave a half smile, "Don't you know? I mean it doesn't sound like something you would forget,"

He herded a few crumbs into the middle of the plate. "I was mugged. I figure the guy who jumped me must have bashed my head or something. I can't remember any of it," Slade paused, "or anything before it."

Here it comes, Slade thought. This is where it all gets sappy, 'oh you poor thing!' that sort of stuff. He waited.

"So," Ruby began, "how will finding this guy help you?"

Surprising, "well, first of all to get a little vengeance, aside from that, I want to find out who I was. It's somewhere to start, I figure the guy either attacked me because of who I was, or that he stole some sort of ID from me. He'll know something about who I am. More than I do, anyway, all I know is that I used to dress like an idiot, and that I carried this around." He took out the dagger and sat it on the table top.

Ruby studied it, "what will you do if you can't find him?"

Somehow, he'd never considered that. He'd just been so sure that he'd get the guy. "I don't know, I guess I'll have to stay Slade Dagger."

"Slade Dagger?" Ruby asked, smiling over her mug.

He smiled back slightly, "it's temporary."

"Maybe I could help you," She began, "I have some friends around the city, even some in the gangs. They should know who you were, before."

"Thanks all the same, but I'd prefer to do the digging on my own."

Ruby shook her head, "you obviously don't know anything about this city! Everything here's about connections, if you don't know the right people, you won't get very far."

He shrugged, "I'll take my chances."

Ruby slammed her mug down, making lukewarm coffee spill over the edges. Her eyes flashed at him like pilot lights in a flame thrower. Words flowed out of her mouth fast and angry. "O.K. Lone Ranger, listen. Your whole lone wolf thing is really starting to get on my nerves! I'm offering to help you… You don't know what that means in the City. People don't help other people here. In fact, you came this close," she held up two pinched fingers, "to not making it out of that alley last night! You would have died if I hadn't helped you! You asked for my help, if you remember right. Why should you waste time running around searching for leads for weeks or month when I could get them for you in a few hours!"

"Woo-hoo!" the clerk's shout made both Slade and Ruby turn. The young man wore a lopsided grin, "She got you there, grey haired dude!"

Slade gave him a stare so venom filled that the clerk slid behind the counter, leaving only his eyes and nose exposed. Slade turned back to Ruby.

"Fine," he agreed voice hard, "if you are so eager to help me, by all means help me."

Ruby frowned back at him, "The bike shop is as good a place to start as any," she wiped the coffee from her hands and stood up.


End file.
